


In Memoriam

by liseraptorknight



Series: Catharsis [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends (Dark Horse Comics), Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dialogue Heavy, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Museums, Past Character Death, angst like whoa, ghosts or the act of searching for them, memorials which are both extremely tacky and profound, past trauma, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7403464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liseraptorknight/pseuds/liseraptorknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayne Carrick and Marn Hieroglyph revisit the site of the Taris padawaan massacre and attempt to lay a few old ghosts to rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

"If once you could have saved yourself, now that time’s past: you were obstinate, pathetically blind to change. Now you have nothing: for you, home is a cemetery. I’ve seen you press your face against the granite markers — you are the lichen, trying to grow there. But you will not grow, you will not let yourself obliterate anything."

— Louise Glück, from _Adult Grief_

* * *

 

Taris’s government built them a memorial. Zayne immediately hated it. He knows _they_ would have. It was on the site of the old Jedi Tower, atop a new tower built to house a museum dedicated to well- Taris or more specifically the conflicts which shaped Taris.

It was an austere white room with a dome of transparisteel arching gracefully overhead. In the center of the room stood a Plinth made of a girder from the old building inscribed with the full names of the deceased with their dates of birth and death etched beside them. Before the plinth was a small, round reflecting pool with some tacky saying about memory etched into it. Zayne ignored it, instead focusing on the holographic images standing in a circle around the pool like thoughtful ghosts. There’s a gap in them, a missing space for a visitor to stand and look into the pool and perhaps try to understand the loss of life.

Zayne walks slowly into the gap and stares. If he squinted a little, the holographic reflections looked solid for a moment, but Gharn was never this stoic or all of them so silent. Lucien used to say he’d just find them all together by the noise or the feeling of joy and unity rippling through the force like a stone tossed into a still pool.

  
He feels nothing. No ripples, no echoes. He knew when they died. It was like a scream. It was like a door to a room full of light and noise being slammed. He’d tried. Force, how he tried yanking at what was left hoping for some sort of answer, no matter how faint.

“Tacky ain’t it,” said Gryph from behind him.

“Yeah,” Zayne agreed. “Real tacky. Real classy too. Make you feel like you were part of their circle.”

“You were, kid.”

“That was a long, long time ago. I’m not even sure it was real.” Zayne felt Gryph shrug, a hint of sadness rippled through the force.

“Wish I’d known them. The Green Girl-“ Gryph paused to squint at the name. “Kamlin used to chase me a lot, until they sent her after an actual criminal ‘stead of small time hood. Kinda smart, sendin’ you after me. We matched. Not the best, but still trying. Dunno the other three. They were on the news a lot even before they died. They were good kids.”

"Yeah.” Zayne closed his eyes. Stillness. Not an echo.

“Dunno why you’re here,” Gryph continued. “You could be with Jarael and the rest on a beach on Alderaan, but you’re here.”

 Zayne sighed and turned for the exit as a gaggle of schoolchildren trailed by a beleaguered pair of teachers filed into the memorial. They’d recognize him from the displays and ask for autographs. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to refuse.

“I thought I was over it,” he confided to Gryph as they ambled trough a display on Swoop Bike history. “Like in five years it wouldn’t, well, hurt. Like I could go back here and not feel a thing. I mean, I don’t feel a thing. There’s no echo of them in the Force here, like I though there would be… Just I dunno. I dunno.”

“Me too kid,” said Gryph. Another ripple of slight grief. “Me too. I mean, they were basically stolen from you.”

“I guess I’ve forgiven them for it, well, Lucien at least. The others, I’m not too sure even though they’re dead.”

“Karma’s a bitch, well or so they say. They saw their deaths and, well, ran away and right into them anyhow.”

“Still don’t- doesn't feel right. If the were still alive I’d- I’d just walk away. Let them live with what they did. Let it haunt ‘em. I know it did.”

“Probably what killed them,” said Gryph, poking idly at one interactive display. “The ghosts. Not literal ones, unless you Jedi do that.”

“Only those who have complete mastery of the Force become ghosts,” said Zayne, leaning on a railing looking out over a giant holographic map of Taris which hung over the lobby. “We- they were padawaans and most Masters never attain that. Maybe a holocron, but we never used those, not ready nor wise enough. All I got is old photo albums and memorial facenet pages.”

“Better than nothing. I don’t even have a good picture of my mum. It got lost with most of my family stuff in my line of work.”

Zayne glanced at his companion. “Thought you lied about family stuff.”

“Kid, I don’t lie about my family stuff. Well, I omit things, but I don’t lie.” Gryph huffed and leaned on the rail next to Zayne.

“You never talk about them much.”

“Lots of reasons. Mostly to protect my identity. Mostly out of respect. I don’t need to haul them through the mud any more than they’ve already been.”

Zayne watched the display rotate slowly. “I used to live here, you know. Not this precise tower, but this precise spot. We had the whole tower to ourselves. Our own quarters, kitchens, vehicles, storerooms, armory, and the like. This is like… a ghost of a building. As if buildings can even have ghosts. All the white isn’t really helping.”

Gryph said nothing, but picked at the end of his sleeve.

“I mean, sometimes I wonder if I’m looking for ghosts. It’s a deliberate act of what I think my therapist calls searching. Some tiny part of me is still hanging onto the idea that if I stick around the places they went and the places they love, they’ll come back. Like if I round a corner, I’ll run into one of them.”

Gryph took a deep breath. “Kid- Zayne. You’re saying goodbye. You didn’t really get to do that five years ago and well, since then it’s been a constant stream of- stuff. I say stay here as long as you want. Do what you gotta do.”

Zayne made a chocked noise. “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I’m trying. I’m not even sure I want let alone can let go of them, not really. So I’m haunting them. Maybe they’ll tell me to let go and move on because they’re happy with where they are and they’re letting me go.”

“There’s an old saying my Mum used to have,” said Gryph quietly. “Places aren’t haunted; people are. I guess that’s you. You’re haunted by what you could have done- should have done. All the might have-beens and maybes. All that unfinished business you five had. Look, kid- Zayne I’m not good at this kind of thing. I just cut my loses and move on; it’s just business. You- you’re different. You hang onto stuff, good and bad. You help people Zayne when I’d just run the other way and pretend it never happened.”

“I know. I just wish I could cut my loses and well, let go. My therapist tells me that all the time. I did my mourning and I did settle their accounts, but-“

“But what?”

Zayne closed his eyes and rested his weight on his hands. His shoulders slumped. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Another tour group shuffled awkwardly into the entryway, guide yelling into a megaphone and pointing. Dust swirled in the sun and settled. A speaker in a nearby display recited the Jedi code, “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”

He found himself whispering along. His shoulders straightened slightly. He whispered back, to the empty air and loud halls, “Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, but harmony. Death, yet the Force.”

Gryph nodded. “Let it out kid.”

Zayne closed his eyes. Ripples moved in a river of light. For a moment, he thought he saw _them_ standing beside him, more ripples in the water spreading outwards into an infinity of light onwards and onwards out of sight. He opened his eyes. “Hey Gryph, what about lunch?”

Gryph started. “Eh?”

“Lunch,” said Zayne, loudly. “C’mon, I know the best place to get a bento box this side of Taris. I’m buying.”

“Not fond of those things,” Gryph mumbled good-naturedly. “Not enough in them to keep fat old me happy.”

“They have large ones,” Zayne added and he started down the stairs “Like ones that’d take me a couple sittings.”

“What kinds do they have?” Gryph followed him down the stairs, grumbling something about “fat” and “old” and “not as spry as I once was”.

“Lots. Just, whatever you do, don’t order the seafood one. Oojoh spent a weekend hurling into the toilet.”

“Ugh,” said Gryph blinking at the sunshine and the thick humidity of Taris’ summer. “If I get sick, I’m holding you personally responsible.”

Zayne laughed.


End file.
